


How Do I Live With Your Ghost?

by zwischenimmerundnie



Category: Actor RPF, Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: Angst, Kissing, M/M, oscar - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-03-04
Packaged: 2019-03-27 00:01:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13868799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zwischenimmerundnie/pseuds/zwischenimmerundnie
Summary: The Oscar was supposed to be the happiest day of his life. Timothée was the youngest person to ever be nominated for an Best Actor Award at the Academy Awards in over 80 years and although he had absolutely no prospect on actually winning the thing, he still knew it was a night of praising like no other, a night he should feel on the top of the world. That didn´t happen though. In between fake laughs and smiles, Timothée had to pretend he was okay with losing, not only the award but love too.





	How Do I Live With Your Ghost?

**Author's Note:**

> So almost a month ago on a very rainy Carnival, I resorted to do the only thing giving me some excitment and that was writing about Armie and Timmy. Those days provided me with two Oscar related fics, this one and an (of course) explicit one, which will be posted shortly after this one.   
> Hope you guys enjoy it.
> 
> follow me on tumblr!

The night was supposed to be the happiest one of his life. Timothée was the youngest person to ever be nominated for an Academy Awards in over 80 years and although he had absolutely no prospect on actually winning the thing, he still knew it was a night of praising like no other, a night he should feel on the top of the world. That didn´t happen though.

The night before they had partied with fans, the entire cast and crew and he almost felt like he had, even if just for a few hours went back to Crema. The atmosphere was the same, the laughter, the chatter, Love My Way blasting through the speakers. Everything felt right that night, being with everyone for one last time felt good, felt perfect. But once the sun came up and Timothée let it all sink in, he realized the situation as it was; it was all over, the whole experience the movie had provided him was over and that meant longer periods of time away from people he had happily bonded over the last almost two years. It meant not having any more excuses to be around Armie.

If those thoughts had not been enough for him to sink into an abyss of nostalgia, to watch Armie and his beautiful, talented, intelligent and extremely nice wife walk down the red carpet as happy as they had ever been did sting him, more than he wanted to. Throughout the entire –long ass and slightly boring- ceremony, he had to sit among all those people, fake smiles, laughs and pretend he was okay with losing. Timothée didn´t even know which lost he had pretended better though, the love one or the award one.

The minute the ceremony ended he actually thought he could have some time for himself, but that was all an illusion. The party followed suit and he was again expected to mingle and pretend happiness when all he wanted was to throw himself on his bed and just sleep for the rest of his life. The second he was left along though, Timothée left the ballroom and made his way around the fancy hotel corridors, in desperate search for a place he could claim and be left alone, even if just for a few minutes.

By then he had found a secluded and impressively dark balcony where he could just be. Leaned against the railing, with a cigarette dangling from his lips, Timothée could only hear the faint sounds of chatter and music. There was though a sound that seemed closer and closer to him each second. Footsteps; footsteps he knew exactly to whom it belonged to, footsteps of the only person that would actually flee a party to check on him. The only person who would realize that particular move meant something more than a cigarette exit.

Timothée heard the wooden doors open and close behind him, he heard the sound of the very expensive tux come in contact with the wall, but he didn´t dare to look away from the view ahead of him. He wasn´t sure that he would be able to hold himself if he dared to look at Armie. From the corner of his eyes though, he could see the older man leaning against the wall, his arms crossed and a serious –and somewhat worried- look on his eyes.

“Why did you come here,” asked Timothée.  
“Figured you might need me”  
Timothée smirked at that remark. If he was to be completely honest to himself and Armie, he would turn around, look the man dead in the eye and say yes, he needed him, he needed him more than he needed air, he needed him more than he wanted it to. But he chose not to do it; instead, Timothée simply stretched his hand out, giving Armie the cigarette.

They remained like that for a few minutes, in complete silence, the cigarette the only interaction between the two of them. Timothée didn´t know for how long he would be able to keep this up though; this was the last time he and Armie would be together, alone, for God knows how long and he knew if he wanted to feel any better with himself, he had to say something.

“You shouldn´t have come,” whispered Timothée.  
“You are fucking crazy if you think I´d just leave you alone when there´s clearly something going on with you,” stated Armie as Timothée shook his head; “you think I didn´t notice you´ve been distant the entire night”  
“Have you ever though you might be the one causing this?”  
“What are you talking about,” asked Armie.

Timothée laughed. Armie knew that laugh way too well, it was a nervous laugh, one he only allowed out of himself when he was in utter despair.

“What am I talking about,” he questioned, finally letting his eyes wonder to the older man, “Armie you know exactly what I am talking about”  
“No, I don´t”  
“Sure, play your games, pretend once again that I am absolutely nothing”  
Armie shook his head, “you know that´s not true, you´re my best friend”

That laugh once again. Timothée was pacing around the balcony by now; he did not know what to say or do anymore. He hated the fact that the relationship that once was the best thing to happen to him could be slowly turning into the worst.

“Best friend,” he mumbled, “do you always sleep with your friends?”  
He saw Armie close his eyes, taking in deep breaths, “Timmy, we agreed not to talk about this”  
“We did,” he practically shouted, “I don´t remember that, Armie, I remember you avoiding the subject until I gave up trying, until I allowed all this shit to consume and destroy me”  
“Timmy, please, don´t say that”  
“What do you want me to say then, Armie, that I am okay, that a part of me doesn´t die whenever I have to see you and her together, those lovely eyes and…,” he sighed, “…and all those kisses?”

Timothée bit his lip so hard he could feel blood. Staring at Armie, he started to feel the tears dripping down his eyes, running down his cheeks; he hated to feel that way, he hated how much he cared. He wanted to go numb; forget every single thing he and Armie had ever been through.

“I hate you so much, Armie,” his whisper was practically inaudible, his tears and sobbing didn´t allow him to speak properly.  
“No, you don´t”  
“Yes, I do”

Timothée knew he was saying this more to himself than anything else. He had to believe that he could hate Armie, that he could forget him and move on. They stood there, in silence, eye to eye for seconds, before Timothée darted towards Armie, his fists hitting the older man´s chest. Armie was shocked at Timothée´s sudden outburst, but he didn´t even flinch, he stood there and allowed the younger man to unleash whatever he had inside of him. Armie knew he deserved whatever came his way.

When he couldn´t hold himself together anymore, his body completely spent, Timothée allowed his body to collapse, a sudden warm in his heart as Armie embraced him, keeping him from falling face first on the ground. The older man held him tight, whispering incoherent things on Timothée´s ear as he tried to soothe him.

It took Timothée a while to regain his composure, to stop crying and to get his breathing back to normal. He looked up, his green eyes focused on Armie´s as he tried to figure out what to do or say next; he let his hands cradle Armie´s face, Timothée´s fingers tracing the older man´s lips and a smile coming to his face as he felt Armie soothe himself to his touch.

Armie was torn though and Timothée could see; torn between not hurting the woman he chose to live his life with and the fact he so desperately wanted to be there with Timothée, to feel their lips together as one. The younger man stood on his toes, his forehead leaning against Armie´s now as he let their faces come closer.

“Timmy, please…,” Armie whispered, “…I can´t do this”  
“Can´t or won´t?”  
He bit his lip, “is the same thing”  
Timothée smiled, barely an inch in between his and Armie´s lips, “won´t means you don´t want to, can´t means you want just as bad as I do, but you´re scared”

Armie was the one to close the space between them, his lips on Timothée´s, his arms wrapping tightly around the younger man´s waist, pulling his body closer. Timothée smiled through the kiss, his fingers knotting on Armie´s hair, pulling on it as they stumbled around the balcony; Armie´s back hit the wall, his big strong hands stroking Timothée´s back as low moans escaped them. This was paradise.

But as expected, paradise was an illusion and just as he initiated the kiss, Armie was the one to break it; he bit his lip, his forehead still pressed against Timothée´s.

“I…I…can´t do this, Timothée, I´m so so sorry”

The younger man nodded as he stepped back from Armie. He kept his head down, not sure of what to do or say anymore, not sure if he even had anything left to say; he took a deep breath and made his way to the wooden doors, hearing Armie call out his name.

“Timmy, please…”  
“I can´t do this anymore, Armie”  
“Timmy, please, let´s talk this through”  
“I can´t handle it, not now”  
“Timmy, I love you”

Timothée closed his eyes; this was too much for him, he had reached a point that it was better to be left alone. He opened the wooden doors and took one look back at Armie, allowing one more thing to leave his lips, before he made his way out of the balcony, leaving Armie behind.

“I know you do, but I think you love her more”


End file.
